


Here I am...

by TheEmpressAR



Category: Simon & Garfunkel
Genre: Friendship/Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 14:42:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11061135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEmpressAR/pseuds/TheEmpressAR
Summary: Art finds Paul in the strangest of places.  In the strangest of times.  And it all becomes clearer...in the end.





	Here I am...

**Author's Note:**

> I have recently re-fallen in love with these boys. I have done a lot of reading and research and I'm so very sorry they had more downs than up, but I still hope that they love each other and I know that they do. They've been together for a lifetime and I'm always a sucker for lifetime pairings with angsty pasts ex: Penn and Teller/Abbott and Costello/ Martin and Lewis/Ryan and Colin - I know they all love each other...even when times are tough. I know this may be a scenario that happens soon...not so much in the fantastical way here but time is growing nigh for the pair. I wish them the very best!
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments below <3 Love to everyone!!

In the time…just before twilight…when the fireflies and the crickets are out by the pond in the middle of the forest, the one we used to visit often as kids, I step through the clearing. I don’t know what has brought me out here tonight. I haven’t thought of the place in years. I feel a strong sudden pull, a yearning to be here right now. It is so strong it makes my head hurt by refusing the call. I was about three hours away and several times along the way here I chided myself for being this foolish. What was going on?

  
We had just finished our "Old Friends" concert at Madison Square Garden and I was well on my way back home, my throat feeling scratchy and worn. I had put a lot of work and effort into this one. It had felt good to be back on stage with Paul. It felt good in a kinda 'homesick...glad to be back...too soon to end' kinda way. I didn't want to go home to my empty house.

My wife was away on a long overdue vacation to...according to her...'figure some things out.' She was not happy with my decision to get back on the road, especially after all of the times I had been let down in the past. She often accused me of being an old dog who gets on his belly and scuttles back to his true master. We didn't fight. It was just understood that she needed some time away to think about her life. She well advised me to think about my own and her place in it. I sighed and told her that she was making a lot out of nothing and here I am.

  
I heard the soft strains of guitar music floating up from the pond and I knew immediately why I was drawn here. I could not help the small quirk of my lips and shake of my head as I realized that this was what it has always been between us. Some kind of psychic connection borne deep within our frames from the time of our conception. How else would I have instinctually known he would be there waiting for me?

  
The fireflies were lighting up the sky around the pond and the only other illumination came from the millions of stars that lit up the night’s sky and the full moon that hung over our pond. The offsetting black silhouette perched at the end of our dock sat unmoving only for the slight movement of the plucking of guitar strings. I stood transfixed at the edge of the path in the woods just watching, just taking it all in. It was taking my breath away, just to be standing here. I rested momentarily against an old tree bark, folding my arms to fend off the chill of the evening.

  
He was playing _American Tune_ and I believe it was the most beautiful rendition that I had ever heard, and I have heard the song so many times it played often in my dreams. I felt myself humming and the vibrations moved through my body, his guitar and my voice inseparable and indistinguishable mingling together against the night noises.

  
_Still, when I think of the road_  
_we're traveling on_  
_I wonder what went wrong_  
_I can't help it, I wonder what went wrong_

  
He paused in his playing as I approached him the wooden boards of the dock creaking under my feet. I gingerly picked my way through the weather-worn boards drawing closer to the shadow, still humming the tune. He picked the playing back up as we found the chorus. It seemed as if the world outside had stopped and everything was silent as it listened to our own music and there was no other high I have been able to obtain in my life than the one I experience with my musical equal.

  
_But it's all right, it's all right_  
_You can't be forever blessed..._

  
I sat down beside him as close as I dared. I didn't want to spook him. I thought he was an apparition myself. I didn't want to make any sudden movements and he would disappear into the mist and I would be sitting on an empty dock singing to the wind. The dock was a lot smaller than I remembered and there was barely enough room for the two of us now. Our jean-clad legs brushed together and our elbows touched. I just needed reassurance that he was there. I leaned back and propped myself up on my arms and stared up into the night's sky. The music had stopped now and the sounds of the crickets and frogs had replaced it, growing in volume. It drowned out the pounding of my heart in my ears. I dare not look at him or speak. He would need to say the first words.

  
“What are you doing here?” Paul asked me, genuinely confused.

  
I honestly didn’t know what to tell him. He trembled with the realization that I had found him. It looked as if he was waiting there for me for a long time.

  
“You project well….” I whispered with a slight hint of laughter in my voice.

  
“It’s not funny, Artie.”

  
“I didn’t mean for it to be.”

  
“Was a good show tonight, wasn’t it? Did we make a difference?” Paul looked up at me through his lashes waiting for confirmation. He has always had the world in the palm of his hands and he still looked to me for assurance. It used to affect me in ways that were never going to be explained and even when I thought I had things figured out it would reach a deeper hum when he looked at me this way and I’d toss my reasoning out of the window.

  
“I think it was good for people to see us together again." Our arms brushed each other in silent approval. He stiffened a bit. I still wasn’t allowed to touch him quite yet. I had learned to read his body language years and years ago. Sometimes I needed to be reminded of what was allowed and what was not. I held my breath and anticipated a jerk back. It never came. Our stories were the same in this respect as well. Mine was flight, his was fight.

  
I felt Paul lean a little into me then as if he was making the decision to himself that touch was acceptable. I exhaled slowly. Emotions were battling strong within me at that moment. ‘Stay on guard’ warred with ‘Let him in’. I let him take the control as I always have. In the end, it was always his happiness that mattered, it was always his fragile sensibilities that needed coaxing. I had learned to accept that his feelings were more important than my own if I wanted to keep any of the peace that was almost impossible between us.

  
“Artie….I’m scared.” He said almost inaudible. The tremble more pronounced.

  
"Now that's just being silly," I told him as I turned to him looking down at the top of his head. He seemed to be preoccupied with the strap of his guitar. He adjusted it and tried to find the snap that held it together around his neck. After a moment he got frustrated and began tugging at it. I patiently put my hand on his shoulder, not caring if he pulled away or snapped at me and tried to free his hands from the strap.

  
"Art...let me do it!" He replied and pushed my hand away pulling the guitar over his head and placing it behind him on the dock. I don't think that even at that point he cared if it went into the water beside him. He sighed then and looked at me. I could see the lines on his face the age showing itself now more than ever. I could still see the young man and the little boy I knew hiding within, somewhere...looking back at me. He almost had me transfixed to find my younger self as well.

  
I put my hands up, taking an ingrained defensive posture. I had promised myself I wasn't ever going to be defensive around him again, but old habits are really hard to break especially when you've done them so much it becomes a second skin. He noticed immediately and I could sense the change in his demeanor as easily as sliding on a new shirt. "You know what...if you're gonna be like that...just forget it...forget I said anything. You always were an asshole."

  
"There's the charm I remember," I say as I start to stand up. I can feel that burning sensation in the pit of my stomach again. If I come to think about it, it never really left. It's always there, just blocked by scar tissue. I'm really too tired to deal with anything but a hot shower and a clean bed. And now I've wasted my time when I should have been on the road and halfway home by now.

  
"I'm not doing this tonight, Paul...pull or no pull...I didn't come out here to fight with you."

  
"Then why did you?"

  
"The hell if I know! I don't know why I'm here! I don't know why when you call, I run. I don't know why I still do after all if the crap that has gone on between us. So much crap that there's nothing left. I'm not doing this with you ever again. I swore to everything I know. What could you possibly say to me to even listen to one more word that falls out of your mouth."

  
"I miss you."

  
I almost began hyperventilating allowing myself, yet again, to get as worked up as I am. I had already pushed myself up to a sitting position and shoved my hands in my pockets. It was my way of telling him that the discussion was about to be closed for another 20 years. I barely caught his words but somewhere they registered in the buzzing of my brain.

  
"God...don't," I say to him shutting my eyes on his words. I just wanted to run back to my car. I don't want to admit I heard what I did.  "You're a bastard," I said to him bitterly. I had mashed my eyes as shut together as I possibly could. It took everything within me to continue not to feel.

  
"There you go again, Artie." He said, turning back to stare out at the water. "The slightest hint of feeling and the wall goes back into place, all bricks accounted for." He poked at my chest. "Yep...nothing out of place here."

  
"Kinda have to do that considering all the dynamite that's been used blowing it up. Thirty years of abuse is a long time."

  
"Look we had a good time tonight. Let's not ruin it ok?" Paul tried his best to bring the conversation level again. I knew I was a grown man and had let all that stuff pass me by ...old stagnant water under the bridge...it wasn't even troubled anymore. But I wasn't about to let him get under the skin I had leathered and toughened up. I looked at him once more. He really didn't seem to have any of the bitterness that he had carried around with him like an albatross. I tried to see him with new eyes. What I saw...what I felt was the fear that he had alluded to. I felt myself loosen a brick and leveled my eyes at him.

  
"Ok...I'll bite...what is really the matter?"

  
Paul's shoulders slumped as if a weight was either put on or lifted. I was afraid again to allow the "in" I couldn't afford to feel it anymore...but it didn't mean I didn't care.

  
"You remember tonight..." he started. I settled against the wooden post of the dock and crossed my arms and nodded at him. I was slowly trying to get back into the "twin-speak" we sometimes had with each other. I thought and it came to me, just what he was getting at.

  
"When we were singing, the only living boy...." He swallowed hard. "I...I don't know Artie...something so powerful almost brought me to my knees. I didn't even feel it in rehearsal, but I felt it tonight. What if...what if we never see each other again?! I suddenly find myself feeling so alone right now. So lost...so scared."

  
I couldn't breathe. It felt as if all the air was sucked violently out of my lungs. I felt every last atom of emotion rolling off of Paul in waves. I was shocked into silence. How he did this to me every single time? I couldn't move.

  
"I just feel like there were so many years wasted between us..." He trailed off waiting for me I suppose...to be the one to make everything right. I'm still numb.

  
"Can you forgive me?"

  
And those were the words that pushed the air back into me. They hit me like a train and I physically felt each of them give me the life that had been taken away piece by piece. My friend. My lifelong friend whom I would lay my own life down for who both built me up and tore me down was open before me. I knew he was sacrificing a lot. It was so very hard for Paul Simon to let his raw soul be barred. I gave one last feeble attempt.

  
"You better not be fucking with me, Paul. I can't do this anymore."

  
"Artie...please. I want nothing else...nothing of what I have or have left matters...if you are not here to share it with me."

  
He placed his hand over the top of mine and I felt the warmth like a stab of a needle pierce my skin where his hand touched and felt his blood eek its way into my veins once again. Silver pain mingled with crimson regret and it was a euphoric sensation. I pulled him to me then.

  
We clung to each other. The softness of our tired, sagging skin through the thin layer of cloth melted into familiar contours and worn puzzle pieces. It didn't matter, we still fit. Paul buried his head in the crook of my neck, and I held him as close as I could. He wanted to crawl into my skin and I wanted to let him. I flashed back to all the times during the concert where I had put my hand on his back, rubbing the material of his t-shirt, wanting and needing the contact no matter how small it was, because I was able to feed off of his undying strength. I didn't know that he needed mine as well.

  
Words tumbled on top of each other. I felt his lips press against the bare skin of my clavicle. I closed my eyes to the touch. I swirled nonsensical patterns with my trembling fingers into his back, shushing and whispering quietly. I soothed him, as he began to cry silently. This was all new to me. I could count on my one hand the number of times he actually broke down like this for me. The last was a very, very long time ago.

  
"Shhh...shhhh...it's ok, Paul. Things are going to be ok. We're here now. I'm not going anywhere." It felt as if the night had begun to sing triumphant for us both.... _ohhh if you need a friend...I'm sailing right behind..._

  
I kissed him tenderly on his forehead and noted that his frantic breathing and soft keening cries had settled and he was now breathing evenly, his grip finally relaxing on my shirt. I rocked with him carefully and laced the fingers of one hand with my own. I began humming  _Kathy's Song._

  
"I love you, Artie." He finally said after a few quiet moments more. It encompassed my entire being. The light and warmth and love lifted away decades of pain and I felt us once again, children sitting here, finding each other for the first time. We were finally free.

  
_"I love you too, Paul."_ My voice came out over the sound of a long continuous beep.

 

Legendary singers Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel's lives were tragically cut short last night when their tour bus crashed in the early morning hours. The pair were rushed to a nearby hospital but sadly, the paramedics were unsuccessful in saving the pair and their crew members. The whole world is in mourning today as they will be sorely missed. Our hearts are heavy right now, but we will celebrate the time they spent on this earth and the true gifts of what they have brought to us. A lifetime of achievement and love for each other, the old friends together in the end.


End file.
